


Training a Pet

by iulia_linnea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 18:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iulia_linnea/pseuds/iulia_linnea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenrir won't be ignored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Training a Pet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theentwife](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=theentwife).



> Written on 16 July 2008 in response to [theentwife](http://theentwife.livejournal.com/profile)'s prompt of _Fenmione: Fenrir wears bunny-slippers. Thank you,[unbroken_halo](http://unbroken-halo.livejournal.com/profile), for beta'ing._

The Dark Lord had presented her, a gift, to Fenrir, but the succulent little bitch withheld part of herself from him: he couldn't make her speak. Scream, yes—in many ways—but by the third week, Fenrir could no longer scent fear on her. 

It enraged him.

Not that rage did him any good—its result had her under a Healer's care for two weeks. She'd live long enough to speak, she would!

No one ignored Fenrir Greyback!

The sixth week brought a change in tactics: he gave her his own tongue, licking her peach-soft skin until she was weeping sweet shame; the tight welcome he received between her thighs, however, wasn't enough.

"Say my name. Say it!"

She came and went, trembling in his arms. Only later, contemplating the ruination of her neck, did he hear: she talked in her sleep.

Her favourite thing, that pair of slippers of her father's, he learnt. How safe wearing them made her feel as a little girl—no, he wouldn't risk the ridicule to fetch them. No!

But she might have something to say to that, eh?

At the end of the seventh week with her, he finally brought himself to wear them. When the elf brought her to his room, her eyes flew to his feet—and the bunny slippers upon them.

The scent of fear rolled through the room, but she didn't scream. He was almost proud.

"Hermione," he said, using _her_ name for the first time. "Look at me."

"Y—yes, Fenrir."

"He's safe. If you're good, he'll stay that way."

"I'll be—"

"Say it again," he ordered, rising.

"Fenrir."

"And again, while you shuck your kit."

"Fenrir."

"Good girl," he said, wondering what he'd have to do to make the bi—Hermione stop using her teeth.

"Fenrir!"

So soft. Whatever it was, he'd do it.


End file.
